Little Looks Between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin
by Catherine or Cate
Summary: COMPLETE. AU. This is what happens when writers bloc sets in and you force yourself to write anything. The Hermione and Blaise fluffy oneshot. Nothing more needs to be said.


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Little Looks Between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin

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AN – I wrote this as an alternate ending to the sixth book that led into a Hermione/Blaise romance. Hopefully that eliminates any confusion.

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Interim Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Minerva McGonagall stood and raised her glass in toast of her late colleague and friend, Albus Dumbledore. As she opened her mouth to speak and lead her students in a moment of remembrance, World War II air raid sirens drowned out anything she may have said. The aging woman glanced at her second in command, Filius Flitwick and the Charms Master shook his head despite his obvious interest in the sound and how it worked.

'We have fifteen minutes,' came the call from the messy haired teen as Harry Potter climbed onto Gryffindor table. 'Choose your sides. See a DA member if you have a problem.'

Calm as you please the older students were leading the younger out into the corridors from the Blue, Yellow and Red tables, with some from the Green being sent after them by older siblings. Minerva watched as the evacuation ran smoothly, on the orders of Ronald Weasley.

The third member of the Golden Trio, Hermione Granger was walking along the Head table handing a sheet of Muggle paper to each of the other teachers, which was covered with writing on both sides. Each member of staff accepted the page and after a moment studying the item began to read what had been written on it. Hearing the agreeable noises being made by the Hufflepuff head of house on her left, the headmistress began to read.

When she looked up again, Minerva saw that all students fifth year and above had remained, and were obviously preparing to fight as they summoned knives, swords, daggers and Muggle weaponry to them, and transfigured their clothes to be more practical. The majority of older Slytherins had disappeared to fight for the opposition though some remained. The head boy and girl ushered all the younger Slytherins from the hall and away to the relative safety of the common room.

After the ten minutes of waiting the sirens stopped, as did everyone remaining in Hogwarts Great Hall.

'The silence before the storm,' Hermione said softly, but every witch and wizard in the vicinity was able to hear her clearly.

'Places!' Ronald Weasley called moving to stand beside his best friend, Harry Potter.

The students scurried away.

Then it began.

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There he was, under heavy fire from all sides when the Gryffindor princess came to his aid. He couldn't deny that she was good with a wand, three Death Eaters had fallen due to hers, never to rise again in moments after she had reached his side.

'The enemy of my enemy is my friend. No?' the brunette asked, firing spells and sparing only a glance at her fellow sixth year.

'Logically speaking,' the quiet Slytherin replied, handing back a dagger from the chest of the corpse he has been hiding behind. 'I believe this is yours.'

Hermione quirked an eyebrow and let the corners of her mouth twitch. 'Sorry about that. So, ally, you'll cover me as I go in five… four… three… two…'

Blaise began firing spells as he mentally shouted 'one' as his saviour began to sprint across the hall into a shadowy alcove on the other side. 'Cheers,' He whispered as spells were fired from the shadows, clearing the way for his dash to a new position. 'And go,' he whispered as he prepared to run.

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'Fancy seeing you here!' Hermione whispered.

'Do you come here often?' Blaise asked as blue eyes met brown.

'Only on dates,' Hermione replied with a pained grin.

'You're hurt,' the Italian boy accused reaching out to touch his ally and wipe the dirt off her face.

'A little,' the young woman winced.

'Where?'

'My wand arm.'

Blaise leant his head closer to her arm in the darkness of the dusty passage and smelt the musky scent of his and her sweat, and the tang of blood mixing in the air. Using his wand, Blaise quickly cast a number of diagnostic spells and frowned.

'I can fix the break but you won't be able to use the arm for five minutes.'

'Do it,' she grimaced as Blaise moved her arm as gently as he could. He whispered spells as her body knitted itself back together.

'How did you get in here?' Hermione asked softly.

'I fell through a tapestry while hiding in an alcove,' Blaise replied. 'You knew this was here.'

'I am Harry Potter's best friend. I know a lot of things I shouldn't.'

'Touché.'

Blaise watched as the witch grabbed the end of the tapestry and began to roll it up so that a five inch gap was created from the bottom of the picture frame.

'Can you stick it there?' Hermione asked, turning around. Blaise did as he was asked and secured the tapestry as the woman at his side clumsily used her wand in the other hand to set up a pair of Muggle sniper rifles. He watched in fascination as she loaded the guns and began firing down on the fighting in the Entrance Hall with accuracy.

'That's not what I had in mind when I said resting your arm for five minutes,' Blaise said as the curly haired teen kept firing.

'But I am not using my wand arm,' she whispered, distractedly as she kept up consistent fire. Blaise watched as dark supporters fell as they made their way up the steps to the doors of the school. 'Problem?'

'How did you learn to shoot like that?

'Grandfather was a sniper in the Pacific during World War II. My uncle is in the Muggle armed forces in the same career. Between them I learnt a thing or two about fighting.'

Hermione fired nine shots and two Death Eaters, four dark creatures, a troll and a snake were all killed.

'Damn,' Blaise whispered as Hermione reloaded the gun beside him before she hissed in dissatisfaction. 'What?'

'They stand together in groups but when one goes down the rest duck ruining my next shot.'

Blaise pulled a fist sized object off his belt. 'Got any more of these?'

Hermione grinned as she recognised the grenade. 'In the top draw of the teacher's desk in the classroom two doors down.'

'Look after that arm,' Blaise snapped as he slipped out of his hiding place.

'Whatever,' Hermione replied pulling the trigger on her rifle.

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Early Summer rain fell as the sun began to lighten the oppressiveness of the clouds hanging in the sky. The silence was eerie as survivors moved through the grounds of Hogwarts and identified bodies, portkeying them to makeshift morgues or first aid centres. Hermione had chosen outside and was walking across the devastation as it was cleansed by the rain. She was searching for survivors mainly, but tossed portkeys onto the chests of dead dark supporters causing them to vanish into the dungeons of the school where they would be laid out for proper identification. Hermione looked up and through the rain she saw him. His face was a mask as their eyes met, as was hers. Both tilted their heads in greeting before they both returned to their searching.

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Blaise walked into the jewellery store and moved along the counter until he found what he was looking for.

'Can I help you, Sir.'

'Yes. I'd like that necklace there please.'

'Yes, Sir,' the jeweller replied nimbly pulling out a box and placing the necklace and the large pendant on it inside. 'Would you like it wrapped?'

'Yes please.'

'In what colours?'

'Grey,' Blaise replied without looking up. 'Two different hued greys.'

Within minutes the box was in his pocket, paid for and the teen was making his way back up the street to the apparition zone. Blaise apparated home and moved into his spacious study, pulling out a white piece of paper and ink the same dazzling blue as his eyes. He quickly penned a note before giving both two his owl and sending her off.

'I hope I hear from you soon, Hermione,' he whispered to the wind.

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Hermione was sitting under a tree at the Burrow when a large owl carrying a parcel arrived and landed gently on her knee.

'Do you know that owl, Hermione dear?' Molly Weasley asked.

'No,' Hermione replied cautiously opening the note after all her spells had deemed it safe.'

'What does it say?' Harry asked as he continuously dragged his fingers though Ginny's hair as they lay on the grass together.

Hermione cleared her throat. 'Hermione,' she read. 'I must use a word that is rather foreign to my tongue and even harder to express on paper. Thank you. I hope that this token of my appreciation helps you as you need it. Use it wisely, and well.'

'Are you going to open it?' Ron asked.

Hermione accepted the box from the owl and smiled at the grey wrapping paper.

'Not the best colour to wrap a gift in,' Ginny remarked.

'No. It's perfect,' Hermione replied as she removed the ribbon and paper, before snapping open the box. Slowly she pulled out the long golden chain and gently held the delicate crystal vial at the end of it. After looking around the group, she carefully pulled out the stopper before she felt all her fears and bad memories fade away.

'Dragon tears,' Charlie Weasley muttered as the effects of the vaporising clear liquid reached him. 'Very rare and expensive. What did you do? Save some rich boy's life?'

'In a manor of speaking,' Hermione replied, replacing the stopper and placing the necklace around her neck. 'Will you take a reply?' she asked the bird who hooted. 'I'll write it now if you don't mind waiting.'

'Go!' Molly Weasley encouraged. 'Quickly now.'

Hermione stood, gathered her things and fled into the house.

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Weeks later Blaise smiled as he received another missive from the Gryffindor teen. Sitting down at his desk, Blaise began his reply but not before slipping the letter into a box with all the others he had received.

Ignoring the construction going on around him as he redesigned the house his mother had left him after her death the week before the final battle, Blaise wrote, for the first time knowing what he had to say would be understood. In their correspondence he and Hermione had discussed their fears, their dreams, their wants and desires and their thoughts on the revamped wizarding world. They had briefly bumped into each other on a school supplies shopping trip and her friends had politely exchanged pleasantries before using the opportunity to visit the Quidditch Supply Shop.

Hermione had used the opportunity to slip Blaise a gift of the entire works of William Shakespeare, an item which, Blaise was currently studying.

Both had promised to meet up secretly once school resumed.

It was that promised that kept Blaise going as he spent his time alone in his empty house.

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The first Saturday of term, Blaise rose early and went for a run out in the grounds before heading back to the seventh year dormitory, established so that the remnants of the entire year group remained together. Thirty students used the rooms, but all thirty spent hours each week in their house common rooms speaking with and helping younger students. Blaise rather enjoyed his solitary room. He found the space relaxing when Daphne Greengrass wasn't visiting. Ducking down and across the hall to the nearest bathroom he found one of the showers already occupied.

Soon, he was under the hot spray letting the water sooth him as it hit his back and ran down his legs. Blaise swore as his wet curls lengthened under the weight of the water and got shampoo in his eyes. Rinsing his eyes and hair free of the suds Blaise pressed the tag on his silver necklace to his lips, before he swore at his hair again.

'Would you like me to cut it for you?' came the voice from the adjacent shower.

Tingles ran down his spine as he recognised it and pictured exactly what Hermione looked like at that second. Blaise reached out and quickly shut off the hot water.

'Yeah. That would be good,' he replied as the cold water formed goose bumps on his body.

Both began mumbling as they spelled themselves dry and dressed in their separate stalls. Hermione was the first to emerge and she quickly dragged a stool from the corner into the centre of the room. Turning around she saw Blaise with his shirt off preparing to sit down.

'I appreciate this.'

'It's nothing,' Hermione replied as she sent the magical scissors into action. Soon she was done. 'Let me see. Could you stand up, please?'

Blaise complied and sent the stool back to its corner. Hermione, in her robe stood in front of him and reached up running her fingers through his now short hair.

'I have never had hair this short,' he whispered.

'It's still long enough to hold on to though,' Hermione remarked.

'What do you mean?' Blaise asked, hoping she would demonstrate what she meant.

The brunette caught the look in his eyes and grinned before locking his hair around her fingers. 'It's for when I do this,' Hermione whispered as she tenderly brushed her lips over his. 'Midday.'

'Where?' Blaise asked as Hermione gathered her belongings and slipped from the bathroom.

'You'll know.'

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Blaise moved through the school and behind the tapestry with one glance at his watch before he physically tripped over a pair of legs. As he pushed himself up he could picture the smile on her face in the dark.

'Fancy seeing you here!' Hermione whispered from where she was seated.

'Do you come here often?' Blaise asked.

'Only on dates,' Hermione replied.

'Good,' Blaise returned, pulling her up from the ground and pinning her to the wall with his body. 'Very good.'

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Hermione groaned as Christmas approached. She was so far behind in her studies it wasn't funny but every time she sat down to work he would distract her. Catching his handsome face from the corner of her eye. Seeing the masculine lines of his body as he worked at the next table, his back to her. The scent of his aftershave even thought she couldn't see him. The thought of his blue, blue eyes.

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Blaise looked at his blank parchment and then back up at the woman in front of him that always seemed to have his attention. He couldn't keep his eyes off her. He looked back down at his page and read what was written. _Blaise Zabini is falling in love with the Gryffindor Princess._ Scratching out the is and changing is to has, and the falling to fallen he folded up the page and floated it over to Hermione who plucked it out of the air before she quickly wrote something on it and sent it back.

Blaise smiled as he read. _Hermione Granger has fallen in love with the Forbidden Slytherin._

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Hermione swivelled in her chair quickly and snuck a look at Blaise behind her as he read her message. He looked up at her, with those eyes that saw her soul, and winked making her blush, as always. She winked in reply and turned back to her book. She tried to read by the words just kept repeating themselves and changing position.

Groaning, Hermione packed up and went upstairs to bed calling out her goodnights as she went.

'Damn him.'

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The last day of classes, before the two of them would be alone in their dorm for Christmas brake, Blaise began making marks on the back of his hand.

One for the look across the room in Arithmacy.

Three for the looks they had shared in Transfiguration.

A bonus mark for the blush he caused in Transfiguration.

Two from lunch.

One from Charms.

An extra for Charms because Hermione had sat behind him, out of his line of sight.

Three from dinner.

He looked up and across the library to see where she was. Blue eyes met brown and both grinned before looking away. Blaise made another mark on the back of his hand.

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Hermione stood in the common room rejoicing for Harry and Ginny who had just announced their engagement to first the Gryffindor and then the Seventh Year dorms. Looking over to the window, she saw Ron in a huff. Slowly Hermione moved over to him.

'There is no need for this childishness, Ron.'

'Yes, there is it ruins all my plans.'

'What plans?'

'For your Christmas present.'

Hermione took half a step back. 'I thought we'd agreed that we wouldn't tread this path.'

'No. You decided for the both of us without any explanation,' Ron snapped.

'You want an explanation?' Hermione asked in surprise.

'Yes,' her friend replied stubbornly. 'Because I think we could be great together.'

'Let's do this after the holidays,' Hermione suggested firmly. 'I don't want to put a dampener on Harry's moment.'

'You'll tell me now,' Ron declared standing up.

'Ron!' Hermione snapped gaining the attention all present seventh years. 'This is not the time or the place.'

'Tell me now!'

'Because I love someone else!' she screamed. 'I love someone who doesn't take me for granted or ignore me at his convenience. I love someone who loves me, Ronald, as a lover. Not a friend.'

Hermione used her wand to summon her Christmas gifts for everyone. 'Merry Christmas. I'll see you all when you get back from your holidays. Except you, Blaise,' Hermione said, fleeing up the stairs. 'I'll see you tomorrow once the train has left.'

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Christmas morning dawned to Blaise having his arms wrapped around Hermione as she continued to sleep peacefully in his bed. For hours he just lay there watching Hermione sleep, popping sweets from the bowl beside his bed into his mouth every so often.

'What time is it?' Hermione asked groggily after opening her eyes.

'Present time,' Blaise replied summoning their gifts.

Slowly they opened them all, one by one until all Hermione had left was a small jewellery box.

'Open it,' Blaise encouraged.

Hermione pulled off the grey paper and ribbon and opened the lid before she gasped.

'Twenty four carat gold band, emerald cut emerald, four and a half carats, flanked by one carat diamonds, flanked by smaller one carat diamonds. Together they make an engagement ring. If you'll have me?'

'Yes,' Hermione whispered. 'As long as we can leave now and elope.'

'As soon as we are packed,' Blaise promised. 'I have a house that needs decorating and a marriage licence that will expire in ten days.'

Hermione smiled and kissed his lips, twisting her fingers into his hair.

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_Sometimes it is the little things, the looks across crowded rooms that keep a relationship ticking. The secretive little signals, winks, blushes and smiles that lead us to our other half. Then come those conversations that last hours and nothing is really discussed. Words just flow and both parties take comfort in the sound of the other's voice. Then there are the love letters. There's nothing like an intimate letter to keep love alive._

_The thing is Harry, and Ginny, and everyone else, I found that. I found that love in a man who can still make me blush, who still causes butterflies in my stomach and who talks in his sleep and tells me that I do the same. We will have our moments – and I will just say that will teach you for reading over one's shoulder, won't it. You do so talk in your sleep. Now look what you've made me do! – But I know when I am old, and grey, I will be at his side and him at mine._

_My choice is made. I am married and I know you know to whom, Harry. Wish me luck and be sure to write soon._

_Hermione_

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'Who is it, Harry,' Molly Weasley asked.

'The same person who's life she saved, and who no doubt saved hers. The same person who sent her those dragon tears and seventeen bunches of roses,' Harry said.

'He sent eighteen,' Ron amended. 'You forgot the very first ones that she got while still here.'

'Eighteen bunches of roses. The same person who sent fifty billion letters on Muggle stationary…'

'Fifty billions?'

'It seems like it,' Harry replied.

'Most definitely,' Ron added.

'And the one who made her blush sixty four times in Transfiguration in September alone.'

'He was at school?' Ginny asked.

'Yes,' Harry replied with a nod.

'Who?'

'The forbidden Slytherin to Hermione's Gryffindor princess,' Harry continued dramatically, making Ron splutter in shock.

'At least he is nice… for a Slytherin,' the youngest Weasley boy conceded after a few minutes of ranting.

'Their children will be Ravenclaw's.'

'I don't want to think about it,' Ron replied covering his ears and humming to himself.

'Who is it?' Molly asked unable to contain herself.

'Blaise Zabini.'

'I so knew that!' Ginny exclaimed. 'I used to count how many times Hermione would look at him during dinner. I thought it was just a crush.'

'It's those little looks that count to love, apparently,' Harry replied.

'That they do,' Arthur Weasley smiled wrapping his arms around his wife. 'That they do.'

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Hermione sat in her chair reading in the lounge room of her home. Flicking her eyes up, she dragged them over her husband's form as he read his own book on the lounge opposite. His grey hair spilled everywhere, his glasses resting on his nose. She looked away pushing he own greying hair back into its bun and reading a few lines before looking up again.

Blue eyes met brown and the old couple grinned at each other like teenagers.

'Mum!' a young voice called. 'Nonno and Nanna are doing it again.'

The aging witch and wizard both carefully schooled their faces into those of innocence as their adult daughter poked her head into the room.

'Just keep reading, Eric,' she declared. 'We can't do anything to help them.'

'Love is yucky,' little Eric complained with six year old force. 'I hope I never fall in love.'

'Then just try and experience the little looks,' Blaise suggested.

'The little looks?'

'You'll understand one day,' Hermione said looking at her husband over the top of her book and meeting his eyes.

'I hope one day is far away.'

Blaise and Hermione just smiled and began to read the same sentences, for the fourth time.

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